


John Watson Ships Sheriarty

by tealvenetianmask



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealvenetianmask/pseuds/tealvenetianmask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this drabble for a tumblr anon who suggested that these might be John's true feelings on the subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John Watson Ships Sheriarty

As soon as he closed the door to 221 b behind him, John heard a soft scraping and shuffling, and hurried laughter, from Sherlock’s room, and paused in the entrance-way, feet seared to the floor. John sighed. He’d have to take that cold drink he’d been craving all day upstairs, so that Jim could make his escape. Unless they knew that he knew. He could never be sure with those two. 

Hell, the way that things were between them, with this carrying on for so long… No, since that day when all the bombings started, after seeing the look on Sherlock’s face as he surveyed that pair of shoes, he knew. He knew that if those two didn’t fuck it up with their stubbornness and their over-complication of everything, he’d be dealing with the equivalent of two Sherlock Holmes’s, gleefully smug and attached at the hip, for quite some time.

John made his way into the kitchen, and shook his head as he popped open a cold lager. No. Why hide upstairs. Why had he even bothered last time. If this situation wasn’t going away, if he was fine with it not going away, he might as well let them know. He walked back into the sitting room without even bothering to be quiet, and sat down. That snide little bastard would overemphasize it, would probably snake his arm around Sherlock’s neck and smirk, wide-eyed, but John could handle it. All new couples gloat, in their own way, he reminded himself. So what if theirs might end up more obnoxious than most?

He took a long sip of his drink as he settled into his chair. The truth was, John hoped these two ridiculous, arrogant pricks would manage, because he could feel in his gut that if this crashed it would do so badly. Some people can’t walk into each others’ lives and then just walk away. Especially these someones. He was so sure of it that he’d had his best suit cleaned and pressed, he’d told himself that it needed doing anyway, but the truth was that a wedding seemed in order. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around the idea, but it stayed. It would happen eventually, if those two didn’t consider themselves somehow above that sort of thing.

John realized, near the bottom of his drink, that he hadn’t heard anything from Sherlock’s room in quite some time, probably since the moment that he’d arrived. How were they keeping that quiet? The walls were thin, but he was listening; how could he not at least hear a bit of whispering? They must have wanted to say something to each other by now. Had they gone to sleep, knowing that he was waiting in the sitting room and would wait for some time? No. This was more than enough. This whole game of avoidance was childish and frankly a bit condescending.

“Sherlock?” he called, raising his voice enough that they’d be sure to hear.

Not even a sound of the slightest movement in response, as he’d expected. 

“Sherlock, I know he’s in there with you. Jim bloody Moriarty. I’ve known for a while. I don’t care.”

He waited a good minute, and set his beer down on the table.

“Sherlock, come on. You don’t have anything to hide. I’m glad you’re with him. I think.. he makes you happy. I want you to be happy.”

John stood up. At this point, they had no reason to continue this act except to intentionally irk him. That was working quite well.

“You’re behaving like a child.” He stepped up to Sherlock’s door and knocked loudly, “You’re both behaving like children! I don’t mind that he’s here, Sherlock. Whatever you two.. do, or are with each other, I don’t care.”

He knocked again. “I’m opening the door. Say something, or make yourselves decent…”

He gave them a good long wait, and rolled his eyes this time at the silence he was met with. He turned the doorknob slowly, and inched the door open. 

When again met with silence, he swung the door open all the way, to be met with an entirely empty room, the bedsheets disheveled, books and clothes of Sherlock’s on the floor as they always were, revealing nothing. The window was wide open, letting in bright sunlight and absolutely frigid air. 

John crossed the room to close it, looking side to side, disoriented. Well.. the closet was wide open. They weren’t in the closet. Not enough room under the bed. But of course..

Wrapping his arms around himself to fight off the cold, quite unsuccessfully, John leaned through the window a bit. He peered down, and then up, and side to side. No sign of them anywhere, no sign of ropes, or ledges wide enough for them to walk across, or anything. A vanishing act. These two were going to be infuriating.


End file.
